


Tutor Me

by drainbamage954 (cats_cradle6766)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8954857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cats_cradle6766/pseuds/drainbamage954
Summary: Kim Jongin needs a tutor. Kim Jongdae is perfection.





	

“Just get a tutor.”

Jongin glared across the library tables at his best friend. “You get a tutor,” he said, feeling spiteful. 

Kyungsoo just rolled his eyes as his friend and roommate. “Why would I get a tutor,” he asked, looking at Jongin who continued to pout at his Calculus book. “I’m passing everything with flying colors.”

“Stop bragging,” Jongin said, stretching over the table and putting his head down on his math text miserably. “It’s not attractive on you.”

“I don’t see what’s so bad about getting a tutor,” Kyungsoo said, settling a little bit more into his chair and looking back down at his literature notes. “Why are you so against it?”

Jongin shifted his head so he was looking at Kyungsoo. “Getting a tutor would be like admitting I’m stupid,” he said, pouting slightly. 

Kyungsoo gave Jongin a patronizing look over his notes. “Getting a tutor is helping you prove you’re not stupid by passing your classes.” 

Jongin just moaned and buried his head in his arms. “Why can’t you just tutor me?” he whined, slightly muffled. “You’re good at math and stuff.”

“Because I actually have things to do besides teach you the basics of mathematics,” Kyungsoo said, huffing slightly.

“You’re not a god or something, just because you part of the Planets-“

“-Solar Singers-“

“-Whatever a cappella gay thing you got into,” Jongin said, looking morosely at his calculus homework and feeling hopelessly confused. 

“I didn’t say I was a god,” Kyungsoo said, tone slightly clipped. “Just that I don't have as much time as you do.”

“I’m part of the dance company,” Jongin protested.

“And I joined SGA,” Kyungsoo retorted. “Get a tutor. Then stop whining.”

Jongin just glared.

  
  
  
  


However, after the next weeks homework which he had spent hours struggling through and which had been handed back to him with a pitying look and a grade that made his stomach plummet, Jongin finally clenched his teeth on Thursday and, at 7 o’clock sharp, walked through the doors of the student center towards the tutoring table. 

Ignoring the looks of others as he passed, Jongin searched frantically for the table with the ‘calculus’ sign, finally spotting it and dropping his bag into a chair, himself falling into the one right next to it. “Please, let’s just do this as quickly as possible,” he said, barely even looking up.

There was silence. Jongin finally looked up into the bemused face of an upperclassmen he had never seen before. This wasn’t exactly surprising, considering Jongin was a freshman on campus, but still, facing the bespectacled visage of a bemused superior was slightly intimidating. 

“Nice to meet you too,” the tutor said, smiling over the table, his arms resting casually on top of the lacquered surface. “Having problems in math, I’m guessing.

“Calculus needs to die a fiery death,” Jongin said, frowning slightly. There was something about this older boy, something that poked at his mind in a way he couldn’t quite understand. 

“We would be very much in trouble without calculus,” the tutor said, smiling in what Jongin recognized as amusement. “Why should it die?”

Jongin scowled. “Because it’s annoying and I’m failing.” He bit his lip. He hadn’t actually admitted that yet. Even to himself. 

The tutor sat back in his chair, his expression turning neutral, though a smile still lingered about his lips. “I’m Kim Jongdae,” he said, looking at Jongin, his voice serious. “And I guarantee that you’ll pass calculus.”

There was something in his voice, something serious and promising and altogether solid that Jongin felt his previous frustration, anger, and humiliation at this whole matter melt away, leaving the sometimes shy and self-conscious boy most people knew him as. He looked at Jongdae, as if for the first time, and saw, not humiliation and a failing grade, but a kind generous young man, with glasses and a gently smiling face. He held out his hand. 

“Thanks,” Jongin said, voice much more quiet. “I appreciate it.”

Jongdae’s small smile got just a bit bigger and he scooted closer to Jongin. “That’s a bit better. Now, where are you having issues?”

  
  
  
  


Everywhere, as it turned out.

By the end of the first night of tutoring, Jongdae and Jongin had spent the vast majority of their time going over what Jongin did and didn’t know. What he didn’t know was significantly larger than what he did know. Which was extremely helpful for Jongdae and horrifically embarrassing for Jongin.

“I’m going to fail,” the younger boy said, giving a slightly desperate laugh, feeling his throat close up. “So much for a scholarship.”

Jongdae frowned at him. “You’re not going to fail,” he told the younger sternly. “I’m glad you came to tutoring. Now we can work on what you need help with.”

Jongin just stared into Jongdae’s face, searching it. It held no falsities. “Thank you,” Jongin said, trying to put as much of his gratitude into his voice as possible. 

Jongdae looked at him for a moment. Then he shifted, turning slightly to rummage into his shoulder bag. “Hey, tutoring is only once a week,” he said, hands pulling out a pen and a notebook. 

“Yeah,” Jongin said, eyebrows furrowing and not entirely knowing where Jongdae was going with this. 

“I’m sorry, but,” Jongdae gave a small little laugh. “You may need more than once a week help.” Jongin felt his stomach sink. “So, when are you free?”

Jongin blinked. “What?”

Jongdae finished scribbling something in the notebook and tore the page out. “When are you free?” he repeated, handing the paper to Jongin. “I’ll give you some extra tutoring help. You get the coffee, I’ll give you private instruction.” Feeling slightly dazed, Jongin took the offered paper from a smiling Jongdae. “When do you have calc?”

“Monday, Wednesday, and Friday,” Jongin answered, not really looking at the paper as he folded it and placed it in his bag. 

“What do you do on Sunday’s?” Jongdae asked, pulling out what looked like his schedule. “Got any free time?”

“I have dance rehearsal from 5 to 9,” Jongin said, frowning as he pulled out his phone, scanning the calendar he had saved there. 

“You’re a dancer?” Jongdae said, looking up with curious eyes.

“Yeah,” Jongin said, feeling a small surge of confidence. “It’s how I’m here, actually. Dance scholarship. Hence why I need to pass calc so badly.”

Jongdae nodded in understanding, his mouth still holding that small smile. “What works better for you, before your rehearsal or after?”

Jongin blinked before thinking. He usually spent Sunday’s in the library or student center studying before rehearsal. “Before,” he said, slipping his phone back into his bag. “Dance kinda wears you out.”

Jongdae laughed slightly, his mouth stretching wide in a smile that made Jongin’s breath catch just slightly. “I wouldn’t know. Not much of a dancer myself.” He tucked his schedule back into his bag. “How about we meet around 2 or 3? Grab coffee at the café and try to work through some of your math phobias.”

“Math phobias?” Jongin repeated and Jongdae just grinned again. Jongin shrugged. “Sure, 2 works. I’m usually properly awake by then.”

“Great,” Jongdae said brightly. “I’ll see you on Sunday then.” He waved and walked off in the direction of the arts buildings. Jongin stared after him for a moment, wondering just what to think of tutoring and Kim Jongdae.

  
  
  
  


“How was tutoring?” Kyungsoo asked from his desk as Jongin opened the door to their room. 

“I suck at math,” Jongin said, closing the door and toeing off his shoes. Kyungsoo had trained him to take off his shoes after a week of them living together. It had taken three more days to train him to hang his towel up properly. Now, after a month of living with the other boy, pretty much all of the things that caused Kyungsoo’s OCD to act up, Jongin had internalized and did automatically. He sometimes wondered if he was living with a friend or a mother.

“You don’t suck at math,” Kyungsoo said, not looking up from his work. 

“Kim Jongdae says I suck at math,” Jongin mumbled, dropping his bag onto his bed and flopping down onto it, staring at the ceiling with a slight frown. 

There was movement on the other side of the room. Kyungsoo had looked up from his texts and was staring at him with his big eyes. “You have Kim Jongdae as your tutor?”

Jongin looked over at his friend. “Yeah, why?”

“You won’t fail math,” Kyungsoo said, and there was so much certainly in his voice that Jongin felt startled. 

“What is this kid, a god?” Jongin asked, hauling himself up to dig into his bag and pull out his books. 

“Basically,” Kyungsoo said. “He’s top in the sophomore class, double major in Mathematics and Biology, and already looking to campaign for SGA president next year.”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin said, standing up and smirking at his friend. “I do believe you’re in love.”

Kyungsoo stuck his tongue out at Jongin. Completely mature, these two. “He’s basically a genius at everything he does.”

Jongin walked to his dresser, pulling open a drawer and taking out a pair of sweat pants and a light tank. “He offered to give me extra tutoring,” he said quietly as he pulled out an extra pair of socks.

Kyungsoo was completely silent.

Jongin turned to him. “What?”

Kyungsoo just gave him a look before giving his head a small shake. “Nothing,” he said in an entirely unconvincing way. “Where are you going?”

“Dance rooms,” Jongin said. “I need to clear my mind.”

Kyungsoo frowned at him. “Am I going to have to come drag you home at 2 in the morning again?” he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

“No, mother,” Jongin said, rolling his eyes as he shoved the extra clothes in a small duffle which he used specifically for dance. It had his shoes, his water, his MP3 player, and a few other odds and ends. Smirking, he pushed open the door and left. 

“ _Someone has to look out for you!_ ” Kyungsoo hollered after him.

Jongin ignored him and, ten minutes later, was lost in music and movement and his determination to be perfect in the only way he knew how. In the only thing he was truly proud of. 

At 11:30, Jongin dropped his dance duffle on the floor next to his bed, his limbs feeling weary but in a good way. Breathing through his nose, he made to gather up things for a quick shower before noticing a paper sticking out of his school bag. 

The paper Jongdae had given him earlier.

On it was Jongdae’s name and phone number. Beneath that was scribbled in slightly slanting writing I don’t make promises I can’t keep.

  
  
  
  


Jongin met Jongdae for coffee on Sunday at 2 pm in the university café. They sat until 30 minutes before Jongin’s dance rehearsal, pouring over examples Jongdae scratched out, patiently waiting for Jongin to fight his way through them and helping when Jongin got significantly stuck, explaining to him how and why the problems worked. 

Slowly, Jongin began to understand. He left tutoring with a smile on his face and a shouted wave of thanks to Jongdae, running slightly as he was rather late for dance. Taemin had scowled at him upon his slightly late arrival but said nothing. 

On Thursday, after sitting through calculus for the beginning of the week and feeling slightly less lost, Jongin went once more to tutoring. Unlike the previous week, he walked up to the calculus table with a small smile on his face, feeling a slight warmth spread inside his chest when Jongdae looked up and smiled brightly at him. 

“You’re back,” Jongdae said, a few papers in front of him at the table.

“Yeah,” Jongin said, putting down his bag and pulling out his calculus book along with the notes he had made and been given on Sunday. “What can I say, you’re a good tutor.”

Jongdae laughed slightly. “You’re a good student,” he said, and, without waiting or looking at Jongin’s expression, scooted closer to him and looked at his homework. “What are we doing tonight?”

Jongin felt heat rise in his face and, horrified, pushed away the sudden tingling in his fingers as the older student scooted closer to him. Instead, he swallowed and leaned over his text book, pointing to the point they were looking at this week. “What the hell does all of this mean?”

Jongdae gave a small sigh before looking up, smile ghosting over his lips as he looked at Jongin. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Jongin,” he said and Jongin just stared at his eyes. They were very nice, he noted absently. “What part doesn’t make sense to you?”

“Well, these are numbers,” Jongin says, pointing to the book. “And these are letters. But I don’t entirely understand what the question is asking me.”

Jongdae grabbed Jongin’s pencil. “Okay, good. We have a starting point. Let’s look at that first.”

Jongin blinked at him. “What? Where are we starting?”

Jongdae smiled patiently at him. “At the beginning. What is the question? Once you know the question, you can solve it.”

It made a lot of sense, Jongin had to admit. 

Two hours later and a lot of bent heads and confusion followed by sudden understanding and quite a bit of accomplished and encouraging smiles, Jongin had finished most of his homework and equations without an equals sign were suddenly much less intimidating. Jongdae was grinning at him as he left the student center, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“You look like you’re feeling better,” Jongdae said, watching as Jongin spun around to look at him walking backwards. 

“Much,” Jongin said, smiling at the older. “Thanks a lot.”

Jongdae shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Of course,” he said, looking at Jongin with a warmth and kindness Jongin wasn’t entirely familiar with. “Hey, I made a promise, didn’t I?”

Jongin felt himself still smiling as he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, turning back around to walk side by side with slightly shorter boy. He coughed slightly, feeling unexpectedly nervous. “So, would you be willing to meet again on Sunday? Same time and place?”

Jongdae looked over to him, eyes slightly wide. Then he smiled. “Still wanting help?” he asked, though the teasing edge was clearly there only for amusement. Jongin shrugged. “Of course,” Jongdae continued, clapping Jongin lightly on the back and leaving the younger’s breathing slightly accelerated. “It’s not like I have anything to do on 

Sunday, anyway.” He laughed and Jongin felt himself smiling at the sound.

It wasn’t until later that night, as Jongin stared at his ceiling, still damp from a shower after dancing that he realized he was thinking about the softly smiling face of Kim Jongdae.

  
  
  
  


It became a sort of routine, Jongin would go to tutoring on Thursday nights and work with Jongdae on calculus problem sets and then the two would agree to meet on Sunday to help Jongin with his basic incompetence in Math. After a month, there was a dramatic improvement in Jongin’s grades and his professor was handing him back his work with large smiles rather than sympathetic looks. 

“You seem to be doing a lot better,” Jongdae had commented, looking at Jongin with what could be affection if Jongin cared to look. As it was he was bent over his calculus text, frowning at an equation. “Are you sure you even need me anymore?” His tone was light and joking but it had Jongin looking up abruptly, eyes wide and shocked.

“Of course I need you!” Jongin said, perhaps a little too insistently, because Jongdae’s eyes widened and Jongin felt his face color slightly. “I just mean, you promised me and I’m not sure I can do this without help yet,” he elaborated, trying to school his expression into something less… red.

Jongdae’s face softened. “Alright, fine. But I want you to try to solve this next problem alone.” At Jongin’s panicked face he laughed, the sound clear and beautiful, making Jongin swallow thickly, dread settling in his stomach. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you if you get really stuck.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Jongin wrestling with the problem and Jongdae’s voice echoing around his head. I’ll save you it kept repeating and distracting him. Making him frown.

By the end of the night, Jongdae was watching Jongin carefully, an amused smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked as they stepped into the cooling night air. 

“What?” Jongin asked, dragging his mind away from x’s and y’s and exponentials. 

Jongdae smiled easily. “You were frowning at your book almost the whole night like it was spewing insults at you constantly.” He laughed, the sound threading through Jongin’s senses like a warm breeze. 

Jongin swallowed, looking at his feet as they walked. “It was a hard problem,” he said, avoiding the real explanation for his expressions.

“But you got it correct,” Jongdae said, nudging him with his shoulder and smiling.

“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Jongin said, rolling his head up to look at Jongdae and feeling his breath catch at the brilliant expression on the others face. Jongdae was beaming at him and it was blinding against the darkness surrounding them. He swallowed heavily, almost tripping over his own feet. “Where do you go?” he blurted out.

Jongdae’s face slipped so easily into a confused expression Jongin wanted to cry. “What do you mean?” he asked, eyes confused.

“I mean every Thursday,” Jongin clarified, looking ahead of them purposefully. “I go back to my dorm but you go to the art buildings. Where do you go?”

“Nowhere really,” Jongdae said, looking off into the night and Jongin had the distinct impression that was not the actual answer. “Just finding a quiet corner to work.” The words seemed hollow, lacking in the substance his other words carried so confidently. 

Jongin didn’t press further, just asked for their usual Sunday meeting before waving goodbye. 

Returning to his room, he threw his bag on his bed, startling Kyungsoo from a philosophy paper. 

“Woah,” Kyungsoo said, jolting back from his desk and looking wide eyed at Jongin. “What is up with you, dud-“

“I like him,” Jongin said, cutting off Kyungsoo as he wrenched open his dresser, ripping out clothes with unnecessary force. “Goddamnit, I like him.”

“Who?” Kyungsoo said, frowning deeply. 

“Jongdae!” Jongin said fiercely, trying to hold back the emotions he had felt boiling in his chest starting three weeks ago. 

“I don’t understand why you-“

“He’s perfect!” Jongin snapped, rounding on Kyungsoo, his heart pounding in his ears and breathing erratic. “He’s fucking perfect, that’s why I’m- I’m…” he trailed off before scowling and grabbing his dance bag roughly. 

“Jongin-“ Kyungsoo said as Jongin made to open the door.

“He’s perfect, and deserves perfection,” Jongin said, eyes closed and hand closed around the door knob. “And I am anything but.”

That night, Jongin was in the dance rooms well past midnight. But honestly, with his mind racing and turning over images of Jongdae, flutters of his voice invading the pounding music of the stereo and his light touches burning on the skin he had occasionally brushed against in the stifling heat of the mirrored room, Jongin needed to completely exhaust himself. 

At 1:45 Jongin collapsed on the floor, chest heaving, eyes closed, and mind blissfully empty of any and all thought. Life was simple now. No exams, no classes, no work, no people, no feelings. Just the rapid inhale and exhale as his body tried to recover from the only thing he knew he could be perfect at. Dance was something he had been doing since he knew how to flex his fingers and something he had driven himself to excel in until he finally had one thing about himself that was exceptional. 

It was something he could control, along with his body. He worked himself to perfection, making up for in skill of movement what he saw lacking in the mirror every time he looked, what he lacked in skill every time he opened his mouth during high school choir. Dance was something he had worked his body for since he was young, making it perfect, making it something real. 

Running his hands through his sweaty and slightly matted hair, Jongin picked up his duffle and left the dance rooms. It was extremely quiet, the music facilities, this late at night. He initially expected it to be creepy but it surprisingly wasn’t. Instead, the building held a sort of serene calm. Halfway down the hall, he paused in his steps, closed his eyes, and, breathing slowly, just listened to the lilting song of the silence. 

Until he realized it wasn’t a song of silence at all, but an actual song. An actual voice. That was singing the most sweet sounds he had ever heard in his life. His breathe caught and his eyes flew open. The voice was extremely gentle as it wove through the air, as if weaving a blanket of protection and serene calm. 

Unthinking, Jongin let his feet lead him towards the sound, his mind beautifully clear and empty, the sounds of that voice the only thing caressing the inside of his mind. As he neared the sound, it began to change slightly, from gentle and serene to slightly haunting, its tone holding longing and emotion that can never be expressed in words. It sent a sort of thrill through Jongin and he felt his steps quicken.

Jongin turned a corner and found himself looking down the hallway housing all of the school’s practice music rooms. Only one had a light on and from there the sound was pouring with all the strength and purpose of a confessing heartache. As if in a trance, he walked closer, feeling slightly apprehensive now that the identity of the singer was about to appear before his eyes.

Jongin stepped, blinking at the sudden brightness of the light flooding the practice room, and looked inside. He felt his blood stop in his veins as he took in the profile of Kim Jongdae, standing, eyes closed, and singing to the wall as if his life depended on it. He was breathtaking and gorgeous and Jongin felt his heart break at the beautiful sound pouring from his mouth.  
  


_I’m not willing to say ‘I’m sorry’_  
I’ve got lots of pride yet my heart’s empty.  
When my soul runs dry  
When everything falls apart  
Will you come to me? 

And Jongin suddenly felt all of the emotions and broken thoughts which he had just finally rid himself of flooding back in a torrent, almost bringing him to his knees and he was walking as fast as he could out of the building, across campus, breathing heavily, his throat feeling raw as Jongdae’s voice continued to ring in his ears. He collapsed into his bed, eyes shut tightly and hair soaked from a shower where he nearly screamed, trying to rid his head from that song and that voice and Jongdae Jongdae Jongdae. He lay in the darkness, trying to concentrate on the sound of his ragged breathing and painfully beating heart as something clawed at his throat and chest like a desperate animal. 

That Sunday, Jongin texted Jongdae that he had a research paper he needed to finish and couldn't meet. When Jongdae suggested another time or day, Jongin had just dropped his phone onto his desk and curled up into his blankets with a concerned look from Kyungsoo.

“I don’t understand why-“ Kyungsoo began.

“Exactly,” Jongin said, eyes closed and face buried in his comforter. “You don’t understand.”

That week, calculus was harder than usual, and after skipping going to tutoring on Thursday, Jongin stared with a sinking feeling at his passed back homework on the following Monday. The professor gave him a confused and concerned look and Jongin sighed. At lunch on Tuesday, he dragged out his phone after staring at a math problem set for fifteen minutes and not seeing where to start. 

Jongdae picked up after three rings. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jongdae?” Jongin said, feeling an abnormal lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, Jongin? I didn’t see you at tutoring, is everything okay?” Jongin hated him. Hated him for being so kind and perfect and beautiful and flawless.

“I had an extra dance practice,” Jongin lied, poking at his rice miserably. 

“That’s right, your showcase is coming up,” Jongdae said, his voice sounding slightly airy and Jongin paused in his attack on his grains. “I’ve been looking forward to it. Anyway, what’s up?”

Jongin’s throat felt dry. Extremely dry. “I need help,” he rasped out finally. 

“With what?” Jongdae asked, and Jongin could feel the teasing in his tone. 

“Calc,” Jongin said, feeling defeated and not sure why. “Are you free today?”

“I actually just got done with my last class,” Jongdae said. “I haven’t been off campus in ages. How about you?” 

Jongin blinked at the question. “Um, not really,” he answered.

“How do you feel about doing some work off campus then?” Jongdae asked and Jongin felt slightly numb. 

Jongin just breathed for a moment, trying to calm his mind and heart. “Um yeah, sure,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Why not. I haven’t really left to do anything that’s not school or dance in ages.”

“Awesome,” Jongdae said, his smile carrying through even on the phone. “Where do you live?”

“Why?” Jongin asked, feeling ridiculously nervous. 

“Because I want to know where I should find you,” Jongdae said simply. “I’ll swing by your dorm and we can head out together. You’re West side of campus, right?”

“How did you-?”

“You walk that way every day after tutoring,” Jongdae said as if it’s the most obvious answer. “So, which dorm? Mallard? Wellington? Barker?”

“Barker,” Jongin said, his answer spilling from his mouth before he could stop it. 

“Cool,” Jongdae said. “How about I come gather you around 6? Is that too early?”

“No,” Jongin said as he slid deeper into his chair. “6 is fine.”

“Great, see you then,” Jongdae said and hung up. Jongin walked back to his dorm in a daze, frowning at the ground and his shoes. He didn’t really look up until Kyungsoo said his name as he entered the room.

“Jongin, are you in there?”

“I’m going out tonight,” Jongin said, shedding his jacket, shoes, and shoulder bag. 

“Really? You never go out,” Kyungsoo said, frowning. “Wha-“

“With Jongdae,” Jongin said, sitting on the bed and looking up at Kyungsoo. “He’s going to help me with calc again.”

Kyungsoo looked at him strangely. “So you’re going out to study calc,” he clarified. “Are you getting dinner?” Jongin nodded and Kyungsoo snorted. “Wow, you amaze me sometimes. Have fun then.”

“But-“ Jongin started. Kyungsoo is supposed to tell him something, give him some sort of advice, tell him something useful. But instead, Kyungsoo just waved to him with a sly smile before leaving, saying something about a cappella rehearsal. Leaving Jongin to internally panic over probably nothing.

Six o clock rolled around and found Jongin outside of his dorm with his school bag slung over his shoulder and Jongdae walking up to him, smiling pleasantly and his face absent of spectacles. 

“Where are your glasses?” Jongin asked, looking at the other’s unshielded eyes and not really able to pull his eyes away. 

Jongdae shrugged. “I don’t wear them all the time, just at night when my eyes are tired.”

Jongin frowned. “You wear them on Sunday, though.”

Jongdae smiled at him. “My eyes can get tired easily, after a weekend especially.” His eyes glinted in a way that Jongin couldn’t see before with the glasses in the way. “So I wear them more on Sunday. Why, are you going to tell me I look better with them on?”

Jongin started at that. “No, the opposite,” he said before he could think about what he was saying and promptly colored slightly. 

Jongdae just laughed at him before clapping him on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s figure out that calc and get some real food.”

A short walk from campus is a delicious noodle shop that Jongdae apparently frequents. The tall Chinese man behind the counter smiled at him in greeting as they sat down. After a brief recommendation from a smiling Jongdae, the two set to work figuring out why Jongin can’t understand math anymore. 

It’s comfortable, sitting with Jongdae and not being on campus. It’s a different world, a different feel, and for just a moment Jongin could almost forget about perfections and imperfections and begin to relax and just enjoy the way that Jongdae seemed to light up the small noodle shop with his warm smile and clear eyes. He smiled rather than burying himself into his book. 

After twenty minutes and a bowl of noodles later, Jongin found that he could understand the equation and Jongdae was looking at him triumphantly. Jongin found himself smiling back. “I just need to keep you around all the time,” he said, barely thinking of the comment. 

Jongdae’s smile was wide and glowing. “I’m here whenever you need me,” he said, tapping his fingers absently on the table. 

Jongin frowned slightly at that. “How is it that you find time to come out here and help me all the time,” he asked slowly. “I thought you had tons of work.”

Jongdae blinked at him. “Why wouldn’t I make time?” he asked and Jongin had no idea how to answer that. “So, calc is done,” he continued, taking a quick sip of water. “Tell me about dance.”

“What about dance?” Jongin asked, feeling self-conscious. 

“Anything,” Jongdae said. “Everything. I’m not much of a dancer myself and I envy those of you who can.” He smiled. “So tell me about it.”

So Jongin did. He didn’t quite know why, but he told Jongdae about how as a child, he had started to learn dance and found it as his passion, his drive. How dancing for him was achieving perfection. How it was his way to express himself fully, how it was the only place he felt confident, felt sure and strong and fully in control. How it was absolute freedom.

And Jongdae just sat and listened with interested eyes and a soft smile playing about his lips.

“You should sing more,” Jongin said after a small silence in which the two just sat in comfort. 

Jongdae’s expression fell for the first time and his looked shocked and slightly hurt. “What are you talking about?”

Jongin swallowed hard. He realized now that telling Jongdae that he had creepily heard him singing in the music rooms in the dead of night might sound a bit odd. But what other excuse does he have. “I heard you the other night,” he admitted, looking at his hands. “I was at the dance rooms late and heard someone singing, so I went and checked it out and it was you.” He chanced a look up. “You have an amazing voice,” he added, feeling color rise to his cheeks. Perfect his mind supplied. 

“At lot of people sing,” Jongdae said, looking at the wall and frowning slightly. 

“Not like you,” Jongin said, his voice soft but audible before he could realize it. 

Jongdae smiled sadly at him. “You’re flattering,” he said, reaching across the table with a chopstick and poking Jongin in the nose with it. Jongin scrunched up his face in response, moving away with a jerk. 

“I’m serious,” he said, feeling oddly offended the older wasn’t listening to him. 

“I want to see you dance,” Jongdae said, cutting off Jongin’s line of though.

“The showcase is in three weeks,” Jongin said softly, feeling nervous. “But you don’t really have to come-“

“Of course I’ll come,” Jongdae said, voice warm and delightful. “I just said, I want to see you dance. So why wouldn’t I come. You’ve just told me about how dancing is your passion, your life, your freedom. I want to see that. I want to see what that looks like.”

And Jongin doesn’t have words.

  
  
  
  


“You’re dating,” Baekhyun said as he lounged on Jongin’s bed, flipping through a magazine disinterestedly. 

“We are not dating,” Jongin said, frowning firmly at his friend. 

Baekhyun dropped the magazine onto his chest to make a dramatic hand gesture. “You see each other two times a week to study, and then at least two more times to ‘hang out’ which is stupid for ‘dating’.”

“We’re not dating,” Jongin repeated, typing his English paper with more force than necessary. “Why would he date me?”

“Is he serious?” Baekhyun asked Kyungsoo, who just shrugged over his copy of the mornings newspaper. “Oh my god, you’re dumb as a brick.”

“Why are you like this?” Jongin asked, exasperated, finally pushing back from his report. 

“Because you’re an insecure blind moron,” Baekhyun supplied with accompanying theatrics. “Honestly, no one spends that much time with another person and isn’t interested.”

“I live with Kyungsoo and we spend tons of time together and we’re not dating,” Jongin deadpanned and Kyungsoo snorted.

“I would never date you,” Kyungsoo said, turning a page. “I’d like to keep my life free from Oedipus complexes, thank you.”

“Oedipus complex,” Baekhyun said, frowning and sitting up on his elbows. “Then who’s the father he has to kill?”

“Joonmyun, obviously,” Kyungsoo said, not skipping a beat. 

“Are you dating Joonmyun then?” Baekhyun asked, always eager for gossip. Kyungsoo just shot him a withering look. “Anyway, that’s not the same. You and Kyungsoo are friends.”

“And I’m friends with Jongdae,” Jongin said, wishing he hadn’t asked Baekhyun to help him on his English paper. 

“But you like Jongdae,” Baekhyun points out. “You and Kyungsoo don’t want to jump each other-“ 

“-Gross-”

“-and you and Jongdae do!”

“You have horrible logic,” Jongin said wearily. “Can we please change the topic?” He looked over at Kyungsoo slightly imploringly. “Mom, make him stop.”

“You brought him here,” Kyungsoo said, giving a pointed look to his newspaper. “You deal with him.”

“I think you should confess the night of your dance performance,” Baekhyun began, flopping back onto the bed with a dreamy look in his eyes. “It would be so romantic and sexily raw. You would be filled with the rush of the performance, hot and breathless from dancing, and he would have been enthralled by your display, the movements of your body on stage eliciting in him a stronger carnal urg-“

“Okay, that’s enough!” Jongin yelled, dragging a pillow out from underneath his friend and beating a laughing Baekhyun with it, face hot.

The Sunday the week of the dance showcase, Jongin is exhausted. It’s nearing the end of the semester, thus meaning that his classes are becoming more and more demanding and his dance classes and preparations for the showcase are pushing him to his limits. Yes, even he has those. 

As he sat down in front of Jongdae, Jongin felt his stomach churn. “Maybe you shouldn’t come to the showcase,” he said before Jongdae can even open his mouth.

Jongdae’s face falls and Jongin has to look away because it hurts to see him. “Why?”

“I’m just,” Jongin struggled for words. “I’m really nervous about it. It’s my first showcase and I’m just worried I’ll mess up and if you come, if I know you’re watching…” he trailed off, suddenly realizing how me might sound and wanting to smack himself in the face.

Jongdae looked at him, calculating for a moment. “I want to go,” Jongdae said, dropping his eyes. “I really do.” He paused, looking off for a moment and biting his lip. “But if you really don’t want me there, I wont go.”

It’s what Jongin wanted. What he asked for. But he can’t help the clenching, the horrible dropping feeling in his heart. 

“You really don’t want me to go?” Jongdae asked, fingers playing with the edge of Jongin’s calculus book, often forgotten now.  
Jongin can’t answer him. So, instead, he asked, “Why don’t you sing?”

It’s something they haven’t talked about since Jongin brought it up a few weeks ago. Now he remembers why as he sees Jongdae’s face cloud and he frowns. 

“Because I don’t feel like singing would actually get me anywhere I am supposed to be in life.” Something about Jongdae’s answer made Jongin’s stomach turn horribly. 

_Supposed to be in life._

“What do you mean?”

Jongdae looked up at him. “I’m a biology mathematics double major on SGA with a career path looking directly into med school or law,” he said, eyes steady on Jongin. “I’ve already had two internships and work for the dean’s offices and I’m just a sophomore.” He pauses. “Where does singing fit into that?

Jongin can’t think of a reply to that either. “Your voice is too beautiful to be kept from others,” he said instead. 

Jongdae smiled softly at him. “I’m flattered,” he said. “If you let me watch you dance, I’ll let you hear me sing.”

And Jongin has to think for a while. 

On the night of the showcase everyone is a nervous wreck except Taemin, who is basically a drill sergeant. He threw around orders with the professionalism they could only dream of and Jongin looked up to him amid his panic in makeup and styled clothing that perfectly compliments his dance performance for that evening. 

As he passed by, Taemin dropped a hand on Jongin’s shoulder. “Shine tonight,” is all he said before walking away, barking at some of the girls who were taking too long with their hair. Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol had all come backstage to wish him luck already but his heart was in his throat for a different reason. 

For the person who had never said if they were really coming. Whose actually attendance meant both the world and the end of it to Jongin simultaneously. 

And then they were being called for places and, as Jongin stepped onto the stage, swathed in darkness and black cloth, he felt the rush that only came with this. With his passion. With the freedom of expressive movement. 

By the time the lights came up he was already lost in the perfect precision and he flew.

  
  
  
  


Jongin didn’t see Jongdae after the performance or the day after. 

It’s two days later and on their usual Sunday when, as he’s stepped outside to grab breakfast from the mess hall, he found Jongdae standing outside his dorm, waiting with his always smiling lips and as if it was perfectly normal to stand outside someone’s dorm for an undetermined period of time. 

“What are you doing here?” Jongin asked, taken aback. 

“You know,” Jongdae said, walking up. “Normal people just say hi.”

Jongin fidgeted a little bit before walking up to Jongdae, standing in front of the other. It didn’t help. He still had no idea what to say or do. 

“C’mon,” Jongdae said after a beat or two, his smile just a bit mysterious as he took Jongin by the hand. “I want to show you something.”

Jongin contemplated for a moment saying that he hadn’t seen Jongdae in two days, that he hadn’t seen him at his performance, and that it seemed very strange and it hurt a bit that he show up so nonchalantly, as if things didn’t matter. Because they did. But instead he kept his mouth shut and followed the older boy, the hand around his own warm and pleasant. 

“Where are we going?” Jongin eventually asked. 

“You’ll see,” Jongdae replied. “We’re almost there.”

They walked into the art complex area and Jongdae led him directly to the performing arts center. “Why are we here?” Jongin asked, looking at the building in confusion as they entered it. Jongdae just smiled at him, pulling him towards the large theater and pushing open the doors. “Aren’t they supposed to be locked?”

“I had a friend in the theater department open them for me,” Jongdae said simply, and tugged Jongin into the black performance space. 

Jongin couldn't see anything, the area around them pitch dark and he was glad that Jongdae had slowed down so he could place his steps carefully, in case he tripped and fell. Then he felt Jongdae stop and paused, waiting for something to happen.

Jongdae let go of him and Jongin felt lost. Without Jongdae’s warmth, his contact, he was lost in the dark.

  
  


_This moment feels like I was born as a child who knew nothing  
I closed my eyes again in case it would be a dream_

Jongdae’s voice rang out, clear and beautiful and beyond reality all around him, sliding through the air like silk and wrapping around Jongin, who felt his body relax almost automatically.

_You were standing in front of my desperate self and praying  
Just once, I want to walk side by side with you_

Slowly one light began to glow, illuminating the performance hall just barely. Immediately, Jongin’s eyes started searching for Jongdae.

_Taken by the soft wind into your world  
You asked me brightly where I came from to your side_

He stood, on the stage which was much closer than Jongin would have though, tall and beautiful against the rising stage lights behind him, singing how dreams sound, his eyes on Jongin, who felt his heart swell.

_And I told you that it was a secret  
Wherever we walk together  
Will be paradise_

Jongdae’s voice faded, the sound ringing all around the room and Jongin let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “That was beautiful,” he breathed, gazing at Jongdae, illuminated from behind with the lights of performance, the glow making him radiant.

“That was for you,” Jongdae said, stepping forward on the stage towards Jongin and looking down at him, eyes warm and smiling. 

Jongin blinked. “I don’t-“

“I saw your performance,” Jongdae said, holding out a hand to Jongin, inviting him to join him on stage. “I’ve never seen anyone move like you.” He paused, as if just talking about watching Jongin made him breathless. Jongin held his own. “I’ve never seen anything as perfect as you in my life.”

Jongin felt himself choking out a laugh. “Perfect?” he repeated, wanting to laugh and cry at the irony.

Jongdae looked at him seriously. “Yes,” he said. “I had never seen perfection until I watched you dance. I don’t think I even knew what beauty and perfection were until I saw you move.”

“I'm not perfect,” Jongin said, feeling his heart jump to his throat with the intensity of Jongdae’s gaze. 

“Yes, you are,” Jongdae said, stepping just close enough for their breath to mingle. 

“You’re the perfect one,” Jongin said and quickly bit his lip. Jongdae’s mouth quirked.

“No one is truly perfect,” Jongdae said, looking down and taking Jongin’s hand, threading their fingers together. “We all have flaws. But sometimes it’s our flaws that make us perfect. Like how you struggle in math but become a god on stage. How you sleep late but throw yourself at your work. How you mumble introductions but create laughter with a simple comment.” He looks up from their laced fingers. “To me, that’s perfect.” 

Jongin forgot how to breathe. His heart pounded and his head reeled and he wants this to please not be a dream. 

“I want to be perfect,” Jongdae said, eyes warm and deep as they looked into Jongin’s. “I’m done being the tutor. Now it’s your turn to teach me.”

“You are perfect,” Jongin breathed out, feeling heat rise through him that he had been suppressing for far too long. 

“Being perfect isn’t being the model student or a correct career path,” Jongdae said, squeezing Jongin’s hand gently. “It’s being free. So, teach me Jongin. Teach me how to be free like you.”

And Jongin’s mind stopped questioning, stopped running over thoughts of impracticalities and his own conceptions as his eyes slipped closed to the soft press of Jongdae’s lips against his own.

**Author's Note:**

> The first song Jongdae sings is ‘You are my Melody’ by DBSK. The second is ‘Angel’ by EXO.


End file.
